


Submission or Violence

by AmerValk



Series: Dragon Age 2 f!Hawke/Anders One Shots [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, Mage Rights, Not Canon Compliant, Suicide, Surprise Kissing, The Gallows, The Orsino Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15021113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmerValk/pseuds/AmerValk
Summary: In the Battle for the Mages of Kirkwall, there are no innocents left, just survivors and hard, bitter truths. There are lessons that Meera Hawke must learn. There can be no peace and no compromise when it comes to the lives of the mages. There is only justice and action.This is based off of the very awesome imagination of Voidtakeyou whose drew this remarkable picture. Also, dissatisfaction with the entire fate of Orsino in Da2! I elected to remedy this by  theorizing that Varric lied about the First Enchanter's fate, as he did so many things. In my own way, this is what I think/wished really happened.





	Submission or Violence

The explosion of the Chantry was a cathartic release and open rebellion roared. Meera’s entire body pulsed with a nervous energy as the Knight-Commander delivered her ultimatum. The true colors of her tyranny exposed themselves, as Hawke stood firm beneath the eyes of the Gallows.

Orsino was the first to speak; she saw his entire body tremble as he prepared to submit himself to the Templar’s whims. “Please Meredith! Can’t you see this is enough! How many more have to die?” Meredith smirked as the First Enchanter folded and Hawke’s fingers tightened around her staff. _Anders, you were right_ , she lamented, glancing back at the mage. His face was stern and surprisingly calm as if he was the eye of this massive hurricane. “I know, Orsino,” the Knight-Commander mocked him, despite her feigned courtesy. “But, the people will demand blood,” she affirmed without pity as if the First Enchanter was a sacrifice for the greater good and each mage in this city was simply an animal to be put down.

Meera’s heart broke again, crushed to pieces as the First Enchanter revealed his cowardice and the Knight-Commander prepared to slaughter the entire Circle of Magi. She wanted to cry and scream at the same time; the mages of Kirkwall would not be a sacrifice for the Chantry. Meera found her resolve in Orsino’s weakness, “No, Meredith! You will not harm another mage. There is no peace, no compromise.” The words wretched from her mouth as she realized she only echoed Anders’ declaration of war, “If you intend to slaughter them, you will go through me.” The moment was pre-ordained as she found her courage.

Meredith narrowed her eyes at Hawke, towering over the mage. Meera’s spine refused to bend to her tyranny; even her father would understand. “Champion,” Meredith cooed, attempting to obscure her villainy using gentle tones, “If you stand with these mages, you will die with them.” It was said with the intent to frighten, but Meera was done running. The Knight-Commander stared her down. _I have to be strong. If I falter, all this will have meant nothing_ , she reminded herself as she looked to Orsino, who was so frail now.

She wanted to glance back to Anders again and find some respite in his honey-brown eyes, but looking at him now would only show weakness. “Then I die with them,” she stated with a grim determination, “and in so doing, I will have finally lived with purpose.” Meera pushed the fear and desperation out of her mind. The words felt awkward as they departed from her mouth, but they were a firm reminder of what was at stake.

Wisps of smoke trailed from the wreckage of the Chantry, and the air smelled like acrid and bitter fire. Meredith’s madness revealed itself as she accepted Meera’s terms callously, “Very well, Champion. Know that I warned you.” She smiled like a violent predator at Orsino, who watched in horror as his entire life was falling apart around him.

The irony did not escape Meera as they fled further into the Circle. Her soul was shackled by the forbidding walls and iron bars. Hawke made sure to keep herself between the mages and the Templars that pursued them. The fade itself repelled the Templars as she and Anders fought side by side, however, despite their best efforts, the mages that fell behind still died to Templar blades. Each death lingered in her mind and Meera was forced to conceal her sorrow behind a curtain of steel. There would be time to mourn later.

Finally, they reached a dead end. The remaining mages began to place wards and prepare for the next battle. Still, the silence offered no reprieve as Meera paced, her muscles on fire, as she considered the remaining choices. “The Templars will still come, they will always come,” Meera snarled unevenly, catching her breath. Her eyes darkened with rage as she sublimated the feelings that threatened to burst from her chest.

Anders observed Meera tenderly as she struggled to confront the maelstrom around them. He read the emotions as they played across her face: First, she was mournful as she gazed at the door, grieving for the lost mages. Then, she seemingly blinked it away, and her features became stoic and impassive. Anders wanted to ease her suffering, but there wasn’t enough time, not as the sound of armored plates crashing against one another began to echo down the long hall.

Arcane focus coursed through Meera as the tendrils of the fade wrapped around her, as the mages fled the door splintered open in a shattered arc. As it turned out, the wards provided weak cover, and the resulting sounds of battle rose in a cacophony of steel and magic. Meera had to block out the noise to be able to focus on the flow of mana around her. She wove the arcane tendrils through the halls, past the defending mages, and did her best to form the beginnings of a strategic mental map, until she discerned the energy of a Templar Lieutenant, masked in armor. The fade fortified around him and rendered the younger mages useless as steel pierced flesh.

There is no time to weep for the dead, Meera thought, as she fell back. The Templar Lieutenant met her eyes in a challenge as he shook off the ice that threatened to encase him, as more armored men pushed through the wards. Meera’s fingers curled into a fist, as the fade pulled him to the ground, staggering the fighter while they attempted to regroup. Anders’ hand brushed her shoulder gently as she whispered, “We can’t keep this up.” Meera leaned against him briefly to catch her breath. His eyes narrowed and glowed blue and it was Justice’s deep voice that bellowed, _ **“We must, or all is lost.”**_ His bright blue eyes were an unyielding reminder, however, Meera did not need pity. The battle was far from over as more Templars flooded through the doorway. She kept her eyes straight ahead and grounded herself in the Spirit's mettle.

Orsino walked forward as a powerful barrier was erected in the narrow hall. Meera looked upon it in awe. The Templars chafed against it as it gleamed with vibrant, red potency. Anders, however, focused on the First Enchanter. His eyes were fixed to the barrier as they drowned in an inconsolable sadness. Orisino’s voice was soft and bitter as he muttered, “Meredith cannot do this.” Despair crept into his voice as he glanced at the chaos he could not control, bewildered by the carnage around them. Though he had stopped speaking, Orsino’s lips still moved as he silently chanted. The air was thick with potential energy as the First Enchanter held his fingers together, preparing to snap.

Anders understood the First Enchanter’s melancholy. It was the burden of being a Circle mage, trapped by the very walls that claimed to protect you from the world. He comprehended that violent frustration in a way that Meera never should.

“Wait,” Meera breathed, as she caught the first few words of Orsino’s incantation.

Before she could react, Anders twirled her into his arms and she caught herself against his chest. Without a second thought, he bent his head to kiss her. His fingers guided her chin, tilting it upwards as he captured her lips, commanding her complete attention. His lips were beguiling as they begged her to kiss him back. Meera sighed, her lips parted in breathless anticipation. Anders' arm was snug at her waist, his hand flexed against her chest plate as he gathered her in a passionate embrace.  


For one sweet moment, Meera even forgot the city was at war, as Anders kissed her with devout ardor, devouring her mouth with an unrefined hunger. She leaned into him, taken in by his passionate simplicity as Anders’ tongue traced her bottom lip, beckoning her to surrender. Meera was helpless as their tongues danced, intertwining in a desperate, primitive passion.

The rush of battle pounded in Anders’ chest as his heart beat against his chest. He carried himself away by instinct alone and Meera followed him thoughtlessly as he held her rapt in a tight embrace. The war, the plight of the mages, and even the city disappeared around them as Anders lost himself, while Meera’s mana kindled, intermixing with his own. In this one moment, only they existed and he never wanted it to end. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss. Even so, his lips lingered, and he barely managed to whisper the words, “I’m sorry,” as he pulled them away. He wound his fingers through her short hair and massaged the base of her skull. Anders wanted to remember her as she was now, with bright hues of deep blue in her eye as he cradled her head against his chest.

Meera blinked, taking a few steady breaths, as she remembered why he kissed her in the first place. She spun and Anders released her without any resistance as she raced to the pile of dead Templars. Meera hesitated before she lowered herself to one knee and saw that nothing remained of the First Enchanter. A parched cry caught in her throat as she saw a pile of ashes. _Orsino_ , she realized. Her entire body trembled as she held back a deep sob and affirmed, “Don’t cry now. Be strong, girl. They need you.” The words came out of her lungs as hoarse, empty things.

Anders approached her cautiously and rested his hand on her shoulder. His fingers curled around the narrow blade as she was hunched over, and gathered the ashes into a pouch. Her movements were deliberate and respectful and he watched in silent prayer; even Justice mourned. “Love,” he cooed, “Orsino did what he thought was best. I couldn’t let you stop him.” Anders explained seriously, his voice was nothing but gentleness as he attempted to soothe Hawke.

Anders understood Orsino’s actions better than he cared to admit, the desperate rage called to his soul, but Meera needed his compassion. He smiled sadly as Meera asked, “Was it?” She glanced up at him, her eyes wet with tears that refused to fall, “How can I even know anymore?” She begged in earnest, seeking guidance from Anders, her sole confidant, in a world spiraling into chaos. Meera stood, finding solace in his feathered pauldrons as she drew strength from the scent of lyrium and earth. His mana grounded her as she fought to control the trembling in her shoulders.

Patiently, Anders pressed a kiss to her forehead. “He would rather be dead than used by Meredith and see the mages suffer at her hands. The Circle was his burden too, love,” he explained. “I could not deny him his choice, nor could I let you witness such an end.”

Meera felt the weight of his statement. It was not a kind statement, but a harsh and bitter truth. Somehow Anders’ honesty relieved her as she realized that she finally understood the justness and necessity of war. Orsino had suffered under Meredith’s leash, and it had driven him to a tragic and brutal end. There were really only two choices for the mages of Thedas: submission or violence. “Meredith will pay,” she growled. Righteous indignation replaced her sorrow, filling the holes grief had born into her soul. “Orsino was a good man; for this, I will kill her myself,” she swore. Her voice was hard and firm with inflection and no trace of weakness.

Anders had wanted to preserve her innocence, instantly regretting his own part in this awakening. He had fought so hard to shelter her from the brutality of the Circle, but it was too late now. His silence was laden with forceful implication as Meera pushed back angry tears. The brightness was gone from her eyes, now replaced by a darkened, bereaved anger.

“We need to move,” Meera spoke directly, taking a deep breath as she added, “More Templars will be coming.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to personally thank Voidtakeyou for the wonderful art. A link to the artist's tumblr is here: http://voidtakeyou.tumblr.com/. Also to everyone who has participated in the Handers Reverse Big Bang 2018. Also to Hollyand, who helped me get in touch with Reikah and gave me the chance to work on something so awesome.
> 
> PS All Hawkes and Anders are valid!


End file.
